


Patience

by Raindropsonwhiskers



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Missing Scene, Other, Stream of Consciousness, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindropsonwhiskers/pseuds/Raindropsonwhiskers
Summary: The Master waits on Gallifrey for the Boundary - and the Doctor - to arrive.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know what possessed me to write this out of the blue, but. Uh. Here it is. Apparently I have Dhawan!Master on the brain today

For a body as impatient as this one, far too many of the Master's plans rely on waiting. Hiding as O, living those long decades to get back to the twenty-first century, and now this. At least he has something to keep him busy as he tries to pretend that he isn't waiting for the Doctor to arrive.

It's probably poor form to procrastinate on making use of the corpses of your dead people, he thinks with a touch of hysteria. But when he'd first burnt the place to the ground, first slit all their throats and then finished the job with a pair of blades through the hearts even as golden light like a sunrise began to taint the air, he hadn't had much of a plan beyond shoving them in temporal storage to use later. Now, with a Cybercarrier imminent, the need to prepare the corpses for conversion is a little more pressing.

The work is slow and tedious, has to be done one body at a time to make absolutely certain the regeneration energy will hold up through the conversion. He can't afford for it not to work, he  _ needs _ them to be a true threat so that she'll make the right choice. His hands are steady; he's only truly focused when he's thinking about her, these days.

Harvest the decaying energy from a corpse, store it, force it into another body. Not the most energy-efficient method, but he's going for quality over quantity here. A dozen Cyber-Time Lords - surely there's a better name for them, but he can't think of one - with functionally infinite regenerations trumps a thousand with only a handful of lives apiece.

The Matrix buzzes in his brains, filled with memories of the people whose bodies he's corrupting. None of them matter. None of  _ this _ matters, except for how the Doctor will react to it. As long as it ends with her pulling the trigger, nothing else is important.

When the last body is ready for conversion, he takes another walk through the Matrix Chamber, making sure that it's ready. The trap is in place, keyed to the Doctor's biosignature; the TARDIS disguised as a pillar stands against a wall just in case something does go wrong. He doesn't plan to use it, though. He's accounted for every last detail, every word he'll say and every move he'll make.

Start by separating her from her pets, pulling her through the Boundary, leading her through the smoldering wreckage, reminding her of what he's done, keeping her furious. Call in the Cybermen, don't give her a chance to figure out the real reason why before activating the paralysis field and pulling her into the Matrix. One half of his mind can control that while the other handles the Cybermen. Convert the corpses, wait for her to break out of the Matrix - because he's sure she will, somehow - and then leave the Death Particle somewhere convenient for her to find. Back to the Matrix chamber for a nice little confrontation before she kills them both and finally ends this. Nice, neat, and easy enough.

The waiting is getting to him, though, even as he walks through the ruins of the Citadel to the outskirts, where the rubble thins out and the fires are more smoke than flame by now. It's only a matter of time, he knows, but it could be minutes or it could be days before the Boundary shows up.

He runs a hand through his hair, brushes tiny pieces of rock from the strands. It won't do to look anything less than perfect for this. Surely that's why he keeps straightening his jacket, tugging at the sleeves and fidgeting with the lapels while he paces.

After a little while - time is meaningless, at this point - he sits instead, perched on a lump of rock that was once a house. Probably. His leg bounces up and down, up and down, up and-

CyberMasters, that's a better name for them, he thinks. Much more fitting. He laughs, snaps his fingers, and starts thinking of a good way to work the name into his speech.

He's got three at this point; one for as they first walk through the Citadel, one for when he tells her the truth, and one for just before she pulls the trigger. Rehearsed, of course, because it's not like he hasn't had time, and they need to be perfect to get the right reactions out of her. Fury at first, building the groundwork for later, then shock and disbelief to  _ break _ her, and finally just enough hopelessness that she'll realize death is the only way to win.

Purple and blue stand out well against the burnt orange of Gallifrey's ruins, catching his eye immediately. He bounces up from the rock, brushes himself off one last time, and prepares for his entrance. There's no room for failure, not if he wants all of this to end. The Master is so, so ready for all of this to end.


End file.
